”“But isn’t this one-sided? I’m going to try to get you to stop being promiscuous, but you aren’t going to try to talk me into bed.”“Do ...ou WANT me to try to talk you into bed?” I smirked.“No!” she laughed. “But doesn’t it bother you if I try to convince you that you’re wrong?”“Not at all! What harm does it do to push me to reconsider? You aren’t condemning me. Well, not out loud, anyway. Your moral system does, and that’s fine. So, by all means, push me to think about things. What’s the worst. I said that would be great I’m fairly sure they must have seen the couple of beads of clear pre cum I was producing. Well I’m sure that Fiona must have as after the good bye she sat me down and slowly pulled my foreskin back put my cock in her mouth and gave me one of her fantastic blow jobs. She knows exactly when to suck hard, and did her favourite oral trick kissing me with her mouth full of my semen, I don’t really mind swallowing half each, it is mine after all.Dinner time soon came round. I was their humiliated sex object – a slave to their desires. The memory of my shame and embarrassment has become my favored humiliation fantasy, and I find myself jerking off more often than before the match.Of my two biggest memories about that night, one was obviously what I just described – a memory I play over and over in my head. The other was a woman who, after the match, propositioned me to wrestle her husband. She was gorgeous. Everything about her was elegant and meticulous. I wasn’t. "We don't have to go nowhere, babe. The kitchen floor will do just fine. Just kneel down there and stick that hot little ass up in the air where Big Daddy can get at it." He leered evilly at her, and June noticed with relief that at least he had nice healthy white teeth. In fact if it wasn't for those horrible pimples all over his face he would be quite good-looking. His hand swarmed suddenly up under her skirt to cup one of her buttocks and she could feel his fingers sliding down her anal.